


torn up and tied, you free me

by wreckingtomlinson



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Louis, Coming Untouched, Light Bondage, M/M, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Smut, Spanking, Top Harry, sort of sub!Louis I suppose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-07 10:11:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1118656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wreckingtomlinson/pseuds/wreckingtomlinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What made you think you could put this on and it not have any effect at all?" Harry demands in a low voice, fingers trailing down the sleeve of Louis' shirt. "Looking so innocent in that. Makes me want to wreck you, take you apart, love. But you want that, don't you? That's exactly what you want. You want me to use you like the slut you are."</p><p>Or, Louis pulls out an old UAN-era outfit and Harry can't resist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	torn up and tied, you free me

**Author's Note:**

> Well I've never written top Harry before but there's a first time for everything, right?
> 
> The outfit Louis' wearing is [this one](http://24.media.tumblr.com/08911c6a3c59b0fbf9a3804dacfe25af/tumblr_mjkihzgQz11rt370po1_500.png) for reference
> 
> Unedited, so sorry for any errors! I just wanted to post this 'cause I got excited about it.
> 
> Title from "Hole in My Pocket" by Sheryl Crow.
> 
> Thank you so much to allshadesofindigo for translating this into Russian! [[x](http://ficbook.net/readfic/2038048)]

“But I don’t _like_ cleaning.” Louis stomps his foot like a petulant child. He knows he’s being incredibly immature, but why spend the day cleaning when they could be doing more entertaining things?

Harry sighs. “Alright. Why don’t we do this. You don’t have to, like, vacuum or anything, just start putting that away,” he says, motioning to the mess of clothing covering half the floor.

Louis sniffs but agrees. Harry pads out to the kitchen to make lunch, leaving Louis alone. Louis bends over and starts picking up the clothes he’s strewn around the room, laughing to himself at the way Harry never ever failed to deposit his clothes in the laundry basket, even after spontaneous sex.

A pile of shirts and trousers now in his arms, Louis throws the door to their walk-in closet open and peers up at the top shelf, looking for the laundry basket.

“Harry?” he calls when he can’t find it.

“Yeah, Lou?” is the response.

“Where’s the laundry basket?”

“It should be in the back of the closet.” Harry sounds a bit unsure, but Louis kicks some things around arbitrarily, meandering around without really looking. He eventually finds it tucked neatly away in the far left corner, under—

“Oh, my god.” Louis drops the dirty clothes in the basket and tugs at the bright red trousers hanging in the corner. “I still _have_ these?”

Curious, he stands and pokes through the rest of the clothes. “Oh my god,” he repeats. In the corner, Harry—it could only have been Harry, because Louis probably would have lost these long ago—has carefully saved and hung the striped shirts, braces, and the bright trousers Louis used to wear so often.

Louis smiles fondly. _Sap_ , he thinks affectionately. Of course Harry would save them.

“Wonder if they still fit,” he wonders aloud. Then, he laughs as the idea strikes him. Grinning mischievously, he undresses quickly and stares back at the old outfits for a second before pulling down the navy button-up with the white collar, red trousers, and red, white, and blue braces he wore when One Direction played the _Today_ show in New York City more than two years ago.

To his surprise, they still fit, mostly. The shirt was tight then and it’s definitely too tight now—the buttons are in danger of popping open, probably due to the muscle he’d put on over the years. The trousers, though, are the same shade of tight they were back then.

He’s just adjusting the braces over his shoulders and stepping out of the closet when Harry walks back into the room.

“Hey Lou, did you want—whoa.” Harry stops suddenly, green eyes wide as he stares at Louis. “What are you _wearing_?”

Louis shrugs innocently, noticing the slight extra rasp that’s tinting Harry’s voice. “Found it in the back of the closet. Can’t believe it still fits.”

“Fuck, Lou, you look like you’re nineteen again…bloody hell.” Harry chews on the bottom of his lip, his pupils already dilated.

Suddenly Louis finds his back against the wall with Harry towering over him. Harry’s hips press into his, holding Louis in place. The shorter boy whimpers as he feels Harry’s hardening cock dragging against his own, and looks up to meet Harry’s lust-darkened eyes.

"What made you think you could put this on and it not have any effect at all?" Harry demands in a low voice, fingers trailing down the sleeve of Louis' shirt. "Looking so innocent in that. Makes me want to wreck you, take you apart, love. But you want that, don't you? That's exactly what you want. You want me to use you like the slut you are." His words are heavy caramel, slow and sweet and sticky in Louis' mind. He doesn't even notice Harry's hands on his bum until he feels fingers digging into his skin, and he yelps. Involuntarily he wriggles his bum a bit.

Harry doesn't miss it. "Slut likes being touched," he teases, slipping his fingertips under the waistline and drumming lightly on Louis’ skin. "Shit, Lou, these trousers are so tight on you...shows off your bum, but you like that, yeah? Like everyone to stare at it?" Louis can only nod. At this point Harry could say anything and Louis would happily agree. "Lucky me, then, because it's mine." Harry growls suddenly, gripping Louis' bum even tighter, making the shorter boy gasp.

“Harry, please,” Louis gasps, desperate for _something_. Harry riled up has Louis riled up and he’s not sure what exactly he’s asking for but by the look in Harry’s eyes, Louis knows Harry will give it to him.

“What do you want, Louis?” Harry slots a leg between Louis’ thighs, grinding his hips in slow, dirty circles on Louis’ leg. Louis just moans. “Come on, now, you know the rules,” Harry taunts him. “You don’t get anything if you don’t ask for it.” 

Louis can’t help the moan that slips from his mouth. “Fuck…Harry…need you…I need you…fuck me, _please_ ,” he gets out between heavy breaths. 

Harry’s lips quirk in a grin, and he steps back suddenly only to reach out, take Louis’ braces in his large hands, and use them to pull Louis to him. Louis stumbles to Harry, nearly falling over from the force of the pull and tripping over his feet as he tries to right himself. 

Harry grins and keeps pulling, letting go of the braces and effectively throwing Louis onto the bed. Louis lands on the bed with a soft _oof_ and he scrambles to sit up to watch Harry. 

Harry’s standing at the end of the bed, just looking at Louis, who swallows hard as Harry’s eyes rake over his body. Suddenly he’s overly conscious of the peeks of skin showing between the shirt buttons, the tight cling of the trousers to his thighs and arse. He feels incredibly vulnerable, yet he’s fully clothed. 

“You look so pretty like that, Lou,” Harry breathes as he crawls onto the bed, pinning Louis back to the pillows. Harry’s fingers move to the buttons on Louis’ shirt, unfastening them one by one at a painfully slow pace that’s got Louis squirming under him. Louis moans and reaches for Harry’s t-shirt, but his hands are pushed away. 

“Hands to yourself,” Harry scolds, taking Louis’ wrists and pinning them down. Then his eyes flash with a roguish excitement. “Found a better use for these,” he says with a smirk, unclipping Louis’ braces. Louis lies, soft and pliant, lets Harry remove his button-up, tie his wrists to the headboard above his head with the braces, and pull the knot tight. It’s useless, he knows, but he tugs weakly at the restraints anyway. 

Harry leans close, fitting his body over Louis’. “That’ll teach you, won’t it?” He licks over the curve of Louis’ ear. “Now…what to do with you…” He sits back suddenly, tilting his head so innocently you wouldn’t have known he just tied his boyfriend to their bed. 

“Fuck me, Harry, please,” Louis begs. 

“Hmm.” Harry sucks a bruise into the hollow between Louis’ collarbone and neck. “Maybe. If I feel like it.” 

“Please?” Louis asks again. Now Harry’s trailing down his body, alternating between licking and sucking, and Louis’ cock is aching now. He needs friction, needs Harry’s mouth or hands, needs _something_. 

“Stay still for me,” Harry instructs, undoing Louis’ trousers and sliding them off, along with his pants. 

It’s all Louis can do to keep from bucking his hips into the empty air. “Yes,” he hisses as his breath comes in sharp pants and Harry kneels between his legs. 

He feels Harry’s breath on his stiff cock, mewling shamelessly. His consciousness is shrunk to nothing more than the boy at the end of the bed and the anticipation of a blow job. “What do you want, Lou?” Harry asks again, eyes blown wide with lust. 

“Want your mouth on my cock, please, Harry please,” Louis gasps. He’s had enough, he can’t take this anymore… 

And then Harry’s warm, wet mouth is on him, all around, tongue licking him up and down. “Fuck!” Louis bites down on his lower lip and it hurts like hell but Harry’s blowing him so it doesn’t matter at all. 

Harry pops off just long enough to say, “Look at me, Lou.” Louis complies, lifting his head just as Harry’s going back down on him, and moans again at the sight. 

Harry’s eyes are locked on his, cheeks hollowed and flushed and lips reddened. Loose curls sway as Harry moves his head, and when Louis feels the head of his cock hit the back of Harry’s throat—fuck, he doesn’t know how long he’s going to last. 

Harry seems to sense that, though, and comes off again, leaving Louis whining at the loss. “No coming, Lou, got that? Not until I say you can,” Harry says, his voice still unmistakably dominant even as rough as it now is. Louis can only nod jerkily. “Turn over, now, on your knees.” 

Louis struggles, flipping himself over somewhat awkwardly as his hands are still tied, but he manages. He can’t see Harry anymore, but feels the bed shift and guesses Harry’s moving toward him. 

 _Smack_. 

Louis cries out as Harry’s hand makes contact with his arse cheek, the initial pain giving way to heated arousal that makes his already painfully hard cock throb. 

“Look at you, all tied up and available for me,” Harry says in a low voice, landing another smack on the other cheek. “Are you ready for me to use you, little slut?” 

Louis just whimpers, and Harry spanks him again. “Answer me,” he growls, threading a hand through Louis’ chestnut hair and pulling back. 

“Ah! Yes Harry, yes!” 

“How do you want me to use you, then, hmm? Could finger you till you cry, could fuck you into the mattress and make you come from just my cock inside you…could spank you some more…” Louis can hear Harry’s grin, and he doesn’t know how to answer so he just sways his hips, making his arse wriggle. 

“Or I could do this…” Before Louis has a chance to speculate, the flat of Harry’s tongue is licking long strokes over his hole. A long, drawn-out moan escapes his teeth, and he spreads his knees further apart to let Harry in. 

Harry’s tongue feels like magic, tracing Louis’ rim and just barely breaching his hole; it’s that mix of just enough and yet not enough at all, and Louis might be babbling for Harry to fuck him but honestly, he’s not sure anymore. The only thing he’s sure of is that he really, really needs to come. 

He’s so gone that when Harry takes Louis’ cock in his hand, Louis’ eyes snap open and he gasps, then tries to fuck down into Harry’s hand. “Harry please, can I come, I need to come, please let me come,” Louis cries, his voice breaking. 

“Come for me, babe.” 

Louis releases before Harry’s done speaking, shouting as he spills all over Harry’s hand. He lets his head drop between his shoulders, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to catch his breath. 

Then he hears the pop of the cap of the bottle of lube. Harry’s fingers press against him, and then there are two inside right off, scissoring around and prepping him. It’s not nearly as much as Harry’s cock but it’s something, and— _oh_. Louis’ not sure if it was on purpose, but Harry’s fingers brush against his prostate and Louis chokes on his breath, letting out a strangled scream. It’s too much, too soon, but his cock is already hardening again because even through the pain it’s blindingly good. 

Harry chuckles behind him, and then his fingers are gone. Louis whines a second time, torn between relief and the wanton need for Harry to fuck him senseless. 

The mattress shifts again, and then Harry’s pushing into Louis, slowly but persistently, until he’s all the way in and his hips are pressed flush to Louis’ arse. 

“Shit, Lou, always so tight for me.” Harry leans over Louis’ body to whisper in his ear. “Told you I’d wreck you, love. Ready for me?” 

Louis just nods weakly, unable to form words as Harry pulls out, just to snap his hips forward again. Louis yelps and grips the headboard, the force from Harry’s thrusts physically moving him up the bed. Harry has one hand gripping Louis’ hips so tight there’ll probably be bruises, and the other moves up Louis’ back to tangle in his hair again. Louis hisses as Harry pulls his head up, the familiar slight sting in his scalp sending little shocks of pleasurable pain through his nerves. 

“Not so innocent now, are you, Louis? You’re a little slut, my little slut. You were then and you are now, yeah?” Harry demands, his voice rough and raspy, continuing his merciless pace all the while. “Are you my slut, Louis?” 

“Yeah, yeah, Harry, I’m yours, your slut,” Louis gets out between the little gasps that Harry’s punching out of him with every thrust. Suddenly Harry’s angle changes and he’s right against Louis’ prostate, rubbing against it with every movement and Louis’ brain feels like it’s shorting. “Fuck, right there, harder, Harry, harder…” 

“Gonna come again for me, Lou? Want you to come without me touching you, can you do that?” Harry tugs on his hair harder. “Say my name when you come, yeah?” 

Louis nods again. When he closes his eyes he can actually see stars, little rainbow sparks behind his eyelids, and as he comes with Harry’s name on his lips the sparks explode into fireworks. Louis goes pliant as he comes down from his high, slumping in his position. He’s only barely aware of Harry pulling out and then coming all over his back and arse. He’s slightly more conscious of Harry untying his wrists, and by the time he feels Harry wiping him down with a flannel soaked in warm water he’s mostly back to himself. 

“Was I good, Haz?” Louis asks, turning his head to the side to look at Harry. 

The dominance is gone now, replaced by the puppy-like, caring Harry, the Harry that makes him breakfast and lets him pick the movies. There’s a loving smile on his mouth and in his eyes, and Louis smiles back. “You were amazing, Lou, always are,” Harry praises him, tilting Louis’ chin up and kissing him properly. 

“Should wear that more often, then, if this is what happens,” Louis jokes. 

Harry laughs. “Now aren’t you glad I saved those?” 

“I think you’re glad too.” 

Harry hums, curling up next to Louis on the bed. “Yeah, I am.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! xx
> 
> Tumblr: [lousarrowharrysheart](http://lousarrowharrysheart.tumblr.com)


End file.
